‘I shouldn’t think so, given the level of confidentiality,’ Jill said. ‘What did the woman look like?’
‘I didn’t get a very good look at her because each time she rushed off. But I’d say late twenties or early thirties, smartly dressed, average height and build with dark hair and light brown skin.’
Jill went quiet for a moment as I looked in the car window to check on the children.
‘I’ll phone Cheryl first thing on Monday,’ she said. ‘It’s no good me phoning now: their duty social worker won’t know the case. Obviously if the woman or anyone else approaches you or comes to the house, don’t take any chances: phone us or the police. We don’t know who she is or why she’s there.’
‘All right, Jill.’
We said goodbye and I got into the car, slightly spooked by Jill’s warning and her instruction to call the police if necessary.
We continued with our shopping trip but I was vigilant for the rest of the day and indeed that weekend. I checked the street every time we entered or left the house, but I saw no one acting suspiciously.
By Monday morning I was starting to think the woman’s appearance was pure coincidence and was not connected with Harrison. That was until Jill phoned.
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